


Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Historically Inaccurate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, America is forced to join the Second World War. But all the battles and gunfire are nothing compared to having to face his former brother again, whom he had left defeated on a battlefield over a hundred years before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

America swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

 

He hesitated before entering the meeting room. He wasn’t delusional. The Nation knew he would be welcomed with a mixture of relief and resentment. America had held out for years entering this war, pleas from the countries for him to help fell on deaf ears. While, yes he was here now, he doubted they would forget how long he was in the coming.

 

But that wasn’t why he had trouble crossing the threshold.

 

It had been so long-almost a hundred years- since he had seen England. That day on the battle field still haunted him. How would the Brit react? How could the American face his former brother?

 

He walked in, holding his breath, and saw England in that instant. The breath was knocked out of him. The other country stiffened, dropping his gaze to the floor, not meeting America’s eyes. The younger nation wanted so desperately to speak, to tell the other man, wished he could make amends. He knew though, he couldn’t apologize. So he kept his mouth shut.

 

The meeting ended almost as soon as it began. France, who had been leading the meeting, had seen a pretty serving girl and abruptly ran out after her, leaving the four other countries alone. After a few minutes of bewildered silence, China and Russia got up to leave. England hesitated a moment then got up to follow them. America lingered behind purposefully. As the Brit hastened to the door, America swiftly caught his arm. England turned angrily, a glare fixed at his former colony. America so desperately wanted to say something, but he choked on words. The thoughts where a jumble.

 

England yanked his arm out of America’s grip, and turned to face him. They stared at each other for a moment, and it was as if time stood still. America found himself drowning in those depthless emerald eyes, and he didn’t mind sinking one bit. England’s gaze softened and he reached out, gently touching the nation’s cheek. He pulled America into an embrace, burying his head in the country’s blond hair. America felt England shudder against him and sensed dampness touch his shirt, and realized there were tears dripping from his eyes and running down. He clung to him helplessly, unable to let go, unable to speak.

 

England drew back abruptly, slapping the man across the face. America gasped.

 

“What the bloody hell?” The other nation’s voice shook. “You thought you could just waltz in here, grab my arm and everything’s is suddenly all right? All’s forgiven? Well-” His voice was almost a whisper. “That’s not-“He turned his head, but the other nation could see the tears streaming down his face.

 

America took in shaky breath, feeling something snap inside of him. He stumbled back.

 

“I-“

 

His betrayal, America realized, had left a gaping hole. A wound, which had festered over the years, one which would never truly heal.

 

“Get out.” England in a voice that was somewhere between a growl and a plea “Leave me.”

 

For once, America did what he asked.

 


End file.
